Disney owns KP stuff, someone else owns the other stuff.
XXX
1. To see in the dark.
The sun lazily rose, like any other morning, illuminating the activity all around in a red-orange hue. There where people rushing to and fro, not a rush hour downtown by any means, but never the less, even at this hour people had to get somewhere and do something. Through one of the large windows, things in motion on the outside, where also visible in the same hue. Mornings and clear skies as far as the eye can see, with human activity all around.
Young woman in a stewardess uniform walked at brisk pace past all the comers and goers in the direction of the "employees only" access areas. Upon reaching the door, she produced an ID card and slid it through the slot, the door clicked, and she ducked inside and disappeared behind it.
"Hi, Helen!" came a chipper voice from off to the side of her, and she nearly jumped. Jump she did not, but did utter a small startled squeak.
Her greeter noticed and looked at her with a puzzled and concerned expression. Helen did not appear distressed, but more dazed and spooked. That was unusual enough for normally cheery person, but the somewhat disoriented look did not help at all. Helen was not having a good morning, and it was more then lack of caffeine.
"Um, Helen? What is going on with you? You seem out of sorts, and you keep scanning the corners of the room... 'sup?
Helen stared at her co-worker for a moment, before recognition kicked in and she blew out a tiny breath.
"Sorry hon, really bad morning"
"I can tell, is something the matter, or need a caf-fix?" her colleague smirked. Then noticed, that Helen's was trembling a little, and lost the smirk. They worked together for a while now and knew each other fairly well.
"What happened, hon?"
Helen gazed at her for a little while with that spooked look on her face, then quietly spoke:
"I was almost mugged earlier today"
…
Earlier...
The train stopped at the station on time, as always. Few passengers disembarked, it was still really early and dark outside, sun will not be coming up for almost half an hour, so far only a hint of brightness on the horizon. Very few passengers are traveling at this hour.
Helen's heels clicked on the pavement, leading to the exit from the station, it did not look like anyone else was heading in her direction at all, out of the few, that did get off the train here. The lighting was good all the way out, so Helen headed the way she always did toward the airport trolley pickup, routine trek down the street.
She rounded the corner, leading out of the station's exit, paying no heed, that it suddenly was not as well lit as the rest of the way to far. Suddenly hands grabbed her from behind and another was clasped over her mouth, as she was being dragged down the slope of the drain area...
Helen panicked, and tried to struggle, but it was pointless, there where at least two of them and attempts to scream where in vain, hard to do that with the mouth closed.
Her purse was pulled off her shoulder and she looked as one of the thugs was about to go through it. Three..there where three...
CRACK!
A smacking sound came from behind her ear, followed by a crack and and grunt of pain. Helen could feel the grip on her arms slackening, she could not see what happened, but it was not her, that issued the grunt. A large hand gripped the forearm , that was holding her mouth shut and she felt a strange tilt, then heard a pop, followed by a moan, and that hand also let go. She watched the thug fall forward on his face, she numbly stared at him laying there , then turned her head and saw the other one, sitting folded awkwardly, like a marionette with it's strings cut. She was no longer restrained , but she did not run of scream, she just stared at the the thug behind her in shock. Then it registered, that the thug, that had her purse was coming at her, swinging some sort of folding rod in her direction. She tried to raise her arms to protect herself from the blow, but it was too late, the rod was already coming down...Helen closed her eyes and braced herself.
The blow never came, he felt herself, being shouldered aside slightly, and peeked a little to see, that the rod was not aimed at her, but at a young man, that she dd not notice until just now, standing right next to her. The blow came down on him, but he thug's arm was caught and trapped, leaving him wide open. A palm strike to the solar plexus almost folded the thug in half ( Helen was sure she heard something crack, or was she just imagining that? ) , followed by a vicious blow to the side of the head and and third thug was now laying motionless on the same slope she was being dragged down just a moment ago. It was all over in less then a minute, she put up more a fight then they did.
Young man took a few steps past the thug and picked up her purse. Helen could only stand there and stare at him, not moving of making a sound. He walked back towards her and extended her purse to her in his hand with a smile, she took it numbly, still staring and nodded jerkily. She could not make out his features very well, he did not looks local at all, but it was still dark and it was hard to do so anyhow.
He took he gently by the elbow, and led her back to the path, where she was seized originally..
"Thanks" she barely breathed out, her heard was pounding and she was blinking rapidly.
"Don't mention it" he replied, with a gentle smile, released her elbow and asked:
"You gonna be alright?"
She nodded jerkily again. He smiled again, nodded back, and stepped into the shaded area and seem to vanish. Powered by adrenaline Helen continued down the street at a fast pace, while trying to watch her
surroundings.
…
"Whoa! Helen, you sure, you're ok?"
Helen nodded:
"A little spooked, but no worse for wear, got saved and everything." She grinned.
Her colleague smiled back slyly.
"Sooo , did you get a good look at your knight in shining armor?" She asked.
Helen reflected back on what she could remember of the man in her adrenaline-fueled haze. And could barely recall the most basic things, not local, for sure.
"Not really" - she mused -"I was too scared at the time to make out anything, and it was still dark.."
She stared off into the distance, looking disappointed.
"A name? Anything?"-her colleague begged.
Helen shook her head.
"Oh well, looks like you are losing out on that one, girl." She sighed- "You ready to go? We got long flight to prep for"
"Yeah, i'm good, let's go" Helen said, not looking as distracted anymore.
XX
Weaving through the bustle with fluid grace, a young man was making his way to the Departures area.
This will not the be the first time he'll be making this trip, nor was he unaccustomed to travel, so this will not be much of a hardship. His calm and confident stride, combined with his appearance turns a few heads, he is greeted by a few smiles as he passes by, which he returns.
Nobody there knows of his actual vocation, what he is trained for, or skilled at, or what he is capable of. But international flights are few hours in advance, so there is time to kill aplenty. He looks out the window at the sunrise, standing motionless, gazing into the distance. His mind wandering uncharacteristically aimlessly to the new direction he decided to take his life into. "Future will bring something interesting"-, he muses with an idle thought, "But as to how random that future might be, is anyone's guess."
Life brings changes. Change is the only constant in it. If nothing changes, something is probably wrong, or you just don't meet enough people. Bur sometimes, you meet people, that give you not only a different perspective, a point of view, but a whole different way to perceive things, things you've already known, whole new outlook with a different prism. This is what people you meet do, it all depends, if you meet the right kind of people. Changing you whole viewpoint is a different experience, and it could be unsettling, or painful...or both. But when you get the different outlook, you still do not stop being who you are, your methods are even likely to remain the same. Altered, but similar. We are creatures of habit after all.
It's the goals that change, not the methods. Methods are just tools, a means to an end, no more no less.
Yes, having a new goal is something worth having. Even if it is an ill-defined nebulous concept as it is, in it's current raw form, which will probably remain that way for a while, but you gotta start somewhere. And after all, tools exist to be used, and goals are set for them to be used toward a purpose.
"Talk about finding inspirations out of the random course of events" - he chuckled inwardly - "I have friends in strange places"
Putting on a panoramic view screen, young man found a seat, activated the link, and settled in to start checking on progress of various endeavors of his own and his friends' , while waiting for his flight.
XXX
Author's note: So, basically Mr. Ronshine is a fixer-upper, but nobody put in the time. It's all there, just needs to be honed. One's that see it, and will work at it, for Ron, rather then their own ends, should reap the rewards in my opinion. Fixing is easy, keeping the Ronness-ness is hard.